


Iteration

by julie4697



Series: Rewind [1]
Category: Lifeline (Video Game 2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 15:18:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9277748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie4697/pseuds/julie4697
Summary: Part I of the Rewind series. (Updated with slightly more original title.)





	

Taylor comes to with a jolt.

 

Their chest feels like it's on fire. Something sharp, tiny, and alive, feels like it's crawling, scuttling its way down their throat. For a split second, Taylor has to roll their head back to stop themself from retching or screaming, and as they do so, their back thumps the inside of the suit hard. Their lungs are contracting, something is raging inside their head,  _get it out get it out_ \--

 

But the pain, and the scuttling, suddenly vanishes. Taylor is left lying near the spaceship, exactly how they fell asleep, with nothing more than a slightly sore back.

 

_ *Taylor? Are you okay? _

 

The soft beep on their comm grounds them again in reality. Shakily, they sit up. 

 

_ -Yeah, just had a bad dream. What a surprise, considering where I am, huh.  _

 

_ *Taylor, I am so sorry. _

 

Sorry? About what? A mortal dread creeps in. 

 

_ -Wait, why? Have you done something? _

 

_ *No, I... _

 

The line goes silent for a bit. Anxiety curls Taylor's stomach into a ball, and they're glad for once that the person on the other line can't hear their voice shaking.

 

_ -Are you still there? _

 

_ *Yeah. _

 

A pause.

 

_ *Yeah, I'm still here, don't worry. Forget what I just said. How are you feeling right now? _

 

The comm doesn't do much to convey the tone of someone's voice, but Taylor is sure there's something more curt in the way they're talking now. Something almost like resolve. Taylor just hopes whatever decision they took leads to them getting off this moon alive.

 

* * *

 

"Arika, do you ever have memories of…like...dying?"

 

They're sitting around the tiny kitchen table, lit by a flimsy lamp overhead. Outside, it’s night, and street-lamps pour orange light into the kitchen. A truck whirrs by somewhere in the distance.

 

Arika puts down her book. “You know, Taylor, if I didn’t know _exactly_ what you were talking about, I would have said you were crazy.”

 

“So you _do_ know.” Taylor leans back in their chair. “It’s just…I sometimes have these weird flashbacks, and you know, it’s not possible that any of them really happened, but-“

 

“-But they’re way too vivid to be dreams,” Arika finishes. “I know. Adams was talking about visions the other day too, but I don’t know if he meant the same thing.” She shrugs, picking at the spine of her book. "It’s weird. I just figured it was a side effect of coming through the portal, false memories and whatnot. A glimpse at the what-could-have-beens.” 

 

_But that doesn’t explain why I’ve had them before coming through,_ Taylor thinks, but it’s clear Arika isn’t too comfortable with the subject, and decides to let it drop. Just then, the Lifeline bustles into the kitchen, holding a teetering pile of plates and cups punctuated by the odd fork.

 

“Next time you catch Adams _experimenting_ with new foods,” they say emphatically, as they dump the pile into the sink, “remind him at _least_ to leave the plates in the kitchen so I don’t have to go on a scavenger hunt every time I want a microwave burrito.” They sigh, and flash a tired, brilliant smile at their friends. “And try to discourage him from experimenting with peanut butter if you can, will you? It’s a total _bitch_ to scrape off later."

 

Taylor grins back. “Will do,” they reply. Arika makes a vague nodding gesture with her head, then adds, “And if you ever need the extra help with the dishes, I’m sure Taylor would be glad to help.”

 

“...And you are volunteering me _why_?”

 

“Because you’d be willing to walk on burning coals if our Lifeline asked you to,” replies Arika nonchalantly. At this, Taylor turns the precise shade of said burning coals, but before they have the time to kick Arika under the table, the phone rings several rooms away.

 

“I’ll get that. No fighting,” the Lifeline calls over their shoulder, as Taylor settles for glaring at Arika and Arika sends them a smug look over her book. 

 

“Arika, I’d _appreciate_ it if you didn’t blow my cover like that-“

 

“What cover? Taylor, everyone and their dog has figured it out by now. Hell, you think our _Lifeline_ hasn’t noticed? Why aren’t you just asking them out already, it’s not like it’s going to come as any kind of s-“

 

_ **“WHAT?!”** _

 

A shriek, barely a word, rips through the entire house. An agonizing silence, then another cry wracked with despair follows shortly after. Taylor and Arika freeze in terror; at the sound of a clatter in the bedroom, they jump to their feet, sharing a panicked glance before they rush into the hallway. Adams, alarmed, stumbles downstairs. “What the hell was that?”

 

By the time they reach the Lifeline they’re already halfway out of the room, coat barely threaded over their sweater. They’re shaking like a leaf, eyes wide, tears streaming ceaselessly down their face.

 

“What’s wrong?” Arika asks sharply, grabbing the Lifeline by the shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

 

But the Lifeline looks right through her. “I have to go,” they mutter.

 

“Go where? Do you need our help? Hey!” Taylor reaches over to place the phone back on its cradle, then gently tugs the Lifeline into a hug. “Hey, calm down. Is there anything we can do?”

 

The Lifeline shrugs them away. “I have to _go_ ,” they repeat hoarsely, their voice tapering off into a rasp, and before the others realize it they’ve pushed Adams and Wynn out of their way, heading for the front door, and nearly collides into Alex as they make their way outside.

 

“Hey, I was just dropping by to-“ Alex starts, then, “Where are you going?”

 

They don’t respond, nearly sprinting down the driveway now.

 

“Do you need a ride?” Alex calls out. The Lifeline pauses, and the others see them turn slowly, tremblingly, towards him.

 

“Yeah.” They seem to choke on the word, their voice raw and low. “Hospital.”

  


* * *

 

 

It’s almost 4 AM when Alex pulls into the driveway. At the sound of gravel crunching under tires Taylor jumps up to open the door before the two of them are even up the stairs. Alex emerges from the car, shoots Taylor a don’t-ask-questions look, then opens the back door for the Lifeline.

 

When Taylor wraps them in a hug, the Lifeline doesn’t bat them away this time. Instead, they hug back, burying their face in Taylor’s shoulder, and it isn’t long before a sob escapes their throat.

 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Taylor murmurs, running a hand through their hair. “Come inside.”

 

Arika, Adams and Wynn are waiting in the living room. The Lifeline sinks into the couch next to Adams, rubs their palms over their eyes, then looks up into five worried faces.

 

Wynn speaks first. “I don’t know what happened, but if there’s anything we can do to help…”

 

The Lifeline shakes their head. “No, just…” They wring their hands and try again. “I…” They drop their hands into their lap. “It was a friend of mine. An accident. Not fatal.” They attempt a shaky smile. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

 

“YOU’RE sorry?” Anyone who doesn’t know Arika Lanphear would mistake her tone for fury. Everyone in the room knows better. “Jesus Christ, you think we don’t know what it feels like to receive bad news like that? Don’t apologize to _us_ ,” she hisses, “just help us help you. It’s really the least we can do, to be honest.”

 

A silence falls. The Lifeline stares as if to drill a hole in the carpet; Adams fidgets nervously next to them, then places a careful hand on their arm. Alex stands next to the couch, unsure. Everyone hears the Lifeline inhale sharply, before:

 

“You guys have to go.”

 

Wynn’s eyes dart in their direction. “Wh-“ she starts, but Taylor interrupts. “We get it,” they say firmly. “You need to deal with this on your own. And we can’t stay at your place indefinitely anyway, we knew that, so we’ll find somewhere else to-“

 

“No, that isn’t what I mean,” the Lifeline says, enunciating each word with a tremendous effort. “I mean you guys have to go. Back. To your respective universes. You can’t stay here.”

 

“What happened at the hospital?” Arika asks. “Did you find out something dangerous? Are the Greens somehow back?”

 

“No, it’s nothing like that,” the Lifeline says wearily. “Please, don’t worry about that, just…” They sigh. “I promise, it isn’t that. But I…” Their voice dissolves into another sob. “I just can’t...do anything for you guys while you’re _here_. I can’t live with that.” 

 

Adams looks confused. “Sure you have,” he says. “You’ve let us stay at your house. You’ve invited us into your universe. We didn’t pull ourselves through the Quintessence or whatever it’s called for nothing. We’re here just to see you.”

 

“But I can’t…I can’t help you guys here. Not when you’re here with me.” Desperation edges into the Lifeline’s voice. “Look, I can’t explain everything right now. It’ll be too complicated. But if something happens to you guys in this universe, I can’t help you through it like I did before.” 

 

“What if I told you that you don’t have to?” 

 

Taylor looks up into Alex’s face when he says it, and realizes that Alex, too, is beginning to understand something. Alex places a hand on the Lifeline’s shoulder.

 

“We’ve gotten rid of the Greens. With your help. I survived a goddamn gunshot wound. Taylor survived deep space. Arika survived…whatever the hell that was she went through.” He takes a deep breath. “What I’m saying is, surviving was, and still is, kind of a job requirement for all of us. Whether you worry about us or not, what’s going to happen is going to happen.” 

 

“I think what he’s saying is, don’t give yourself too much credit,” Arika adds, but she’s smiling, and the Lifeline can’t help but return her grin. “Que sera sera. Whatever will be will be. And I have to stop myself there before I belt out the entire song.”

 

“And if bad things are going to happen, to any of us, we’d rather be here with you when they happen. Together,” Taylor says, their ears turning slightly pink. Arika gives a smirk in their direction, to which Taylor responds with a warning glance.

 

The Lifeline opens their mouth to respond, closes it, and drops their gaze. “Okay,” they whisper, then, more strongly, “Okay.” There’s still something uncertain in their gaze, but they’ve straightened up, and the color is back in their cheeks. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you guys ever again.”

 

Alex smiles. “Life is kind of a series of bad things. We just need a friend like you to make it better.”

 

* * *

  


There’s a knock on the bedroom door just as the Lifeline is getting into bed. “Come in.”

 

Wynn enters the room, her silhouette contrasting with the light outside the door.

 

“Wynn?” The Lifeline makes to turn on the lamp, but can’t find it in the dark. “Is something wrong?”

 

“You’ve killed us.” The darkness and the way Wynn is sitting on the edge of the bed, her back to the light, makes it impossible to see her face. “I know what you were talking about back there. You’ve killed us before. Or rather, you watched us die. Over and over again. And it was you,” she continues, her voice still a monotone, “who revived us again each time. I don’t know how you did it. Then again, I don’t know a lot of things.”

 

“Wynn-“ The Lifeline swallows hard, guilt and terror flaring in their gut. “Wynn, I’m so sorry-“

 

“I remember. So do the others, but I don’t know if they’ve put two and two together yet. Maybe they don’t want to. But we remember dying a thousand different deaths, clawing for breath as our vision faded. Intense amounts of pain. And somehow, at the end of it all, we were always back. Breathing. Alive. And you know you were behind all of it.”

 

The Lifeline shrinks back towards the headboard, bracing themself for the rage that is sure to follow. A tear falls over their cheek. _This is entirely deserved._

 

But Wynn leans forward, and does something that she had never done before.

 

She wraps her arms tightly around the Lifeline, and presses her cheek against their head.

 

“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thanks for coming back for us, every time." She touches her forehead to theirs. “Thanks for not giving up on us.” 

 

The Lifeline gives a tearful, shaky laugh. “But I can’t rewind when you’re here. It terrifies me.”

 

“Hey. Adams is a clone. Taylor’s an astronaut, Arika’s a mage. Alex is a cop, and I’m a freaking alien-human hybrid.” Wynn chuckles. “And you’re the badass that loves us. What’s the worst that can happen?”

 

 


End file.
